Lectues
by Mari Strange
Summary: Two long years after the fateful November Fifth, Evey is at a college appearing as a guest lecturer, speaking of course, on V. Unbeknownst to her, the days other lecturer is our masked vigilante himself, whom she had believed dead.


Title: Lectures.

Chapter: One

Summary: Two long years after the fateful November Fifth, Evey is at a college appearing as a guest lecturer, speaking of course, on V. Unbeknownst to her, the days other lecturer is our masked vigilante himself, whom she had believed dead.

Authors Note: Stupid Plot Bunny.

Evey

Evey Hammond walked into the classroom. It was set up as most college lecture halls were a small semi-circular area of flatness and then rows and rows of desks slanting upwards, it was good for the sound, so she didn't have to yell.

Evey hadn't been doing a lot of yelling in the past two years. She had been dealing with the corporate types. Even the new corporate types, _his_ corporate government official types weren't partial to yelling. Which was fine, Evey had to reason to yell, everything was going as smoothly as _he_ planned.

She positioned herself in front of the podium, pushed the half page of notes she'd written at the desk in her room in the Gallery the night before, into a neat pile. She was going to have to wing this, which was fine. She was an expert at winging it.

Nervously, she surveyed the students. They weren't run-off-the-mill kids, these were serious students, they're laptops positioned on the desks, prepared for serious note-taking. It was hard to remind herself these kids were her age, because that's what they were, kids.

Evey quietly cleared her throat. She wasn't used to speaking first, in situations where she had to speak publicly, she almost always spoke last, the event planners liked to save her for the finally. There was another man speaking after her, she assumed he was going to give the class a complete psycho-analysis of Codename V. She waited until the fifty plus college students were settled and quiet, and the professor and dean had introduced her before she began to speak.

Student

She is beautiful. Damien had, of course, seen pictures of the great Evey Hammond, but he didn't expect her to be as pretty as she was. The twenty four year old shifted in the wooden seat uncomfortably. He, like most of his peers, had gotten here thirty minutes early. After all, he was getting his masters in New Government, and here was the vice-president of the new democracy, this was not an experience to be missed.

He watched her walk to the wooden podium. She stepped lightly, almost gliding to the too tall podium. Had her hair been longer than a buzz-cut, he doubted it would move, she walked so daintily. She looked down at her hands, which pushed a single piece of paper to the exact center of the podium that dwarfed her. Quietly, she cleared her throat, as her brown eyes, scanned the class. Unconsciously, as her hard eyes passed over him, Damien sat up straighter and puffed his chest. He saw a smirk play at her lips, and he couldn't help but think it was him the tiny woman was smirking at.

All of the sixty two students packed into the lecture hall silenced nearly immediately after she made a noise, for they were all just as excited as Damien was abut having her speak to them. He wiggled in anticipation as she began to talk in a soft-spoken yet determined manner.

"Hello," She began, her left hand unconsciously moving to her forehead, where she rubbed a pink scar inches below her spiky, army length hairline. "My name is Evey Hammond, and I have the privilege of talking with you today." Damien couldn't help but smile. Why id she bother introducing herself? Every person in this room could write this woman's biography. He knew first hand that was true, except maybe for the Dean, and the masked Codename impersonator standing in the corner, waiting for his turn after Miss Hammond.

She looked directly at Damien and smiled. He blushed and looked down at his keyboard, busing himself by typing her needless introduction.

"I am happy to be here, and happy that all of you care enough to be here to hear me babble about what I'm sure you already know about V's, excuse me, Codename V's dream." She crumpled her thin brows before crumpling the piece of paper in front of her and throwing it towards the wastebasket. She missed, but the Codename V costumed man in the corner threw it in the few inches she was off by. "Thank you." She said politely before facing towards us again and resuming her talk.

Damien looked around the room. His peers shared the same look of befuddlement as he. Was she planning on improvising? "I'm sure you could all tell me a million things about V's plan for the world, things that I know, things that you know. So, I'm not going to waste your time. If none of you mind, I plan on telling you about the man behind the mask, and more importantly, the man behind the idea." She looked around the room as if she expected someone to tell her not to speak. She also looked as if someone told her not to speak, she would punch them in the face. It was odd how such a tiny figure could be so intimidating.

"I met the man you all refer to as Codename V one night when I stayed out after curfew." She paused, and again her life-hardened eyes scanned the class. "I'm sure you all remember curfew?" Damien, along with most of the other students nodded. Sure he remembered curfew, it stole away irreplaceable nights of college partying from him.

"Well, I worked at the BTN then, and was going to my bosses house." She paused and looked pointedly at the faces of the males in the room. "No, it wasn't what you think. Anyway, I took much to long getting ready, and got caught by some Fingermen. These deplorable men, had, well, less than honorable intentions, if you follow my drift."

She looked at the ceiling and chuckled before continuing. "So I go from almost getting gang-banged one second, and the next thing I know, there is a big guy in all black wearing a smiling mask, who attacks all like, six of the Fingermen. In less than thirty seconds he has the dicks, excuse my language, on the floor, I still don't know if they died, and quite frankly I hope they did. He starts spewing all of these huge V words talking of vengeance and a vendetta. So you know what the first words I ask him were? Seriously guess."

A girl across the room from Damien, who he knew from previous classes spoke up. "Who are you?" She guessed, before looking down and blushing as Evey laughed.

"Well, technically, yes. Don't be so embarrassed, when I asked him that he asked me of the paradox of asking a masked man who he is. After that, I, in my abundant stupidity, asked him if he was some kind of crazy person. He was, by the way, crazy that is."

"You see, V did not believe in coincidence, and after I told him my name, which isn't some kind of political farce, I was named after my grandmother, he took me to see watch the Bailey blow up."

"I won't bore you with details, but he saved me again the next day, I told you I worked at the BTN, didn't I? and I woke up with a nasty concussion, and this," She ran her thin finger over the scar on her forehead, on my face, in his house." Considering that that house is my house, I won't tell you more about his Gallery other than that is a museum, a tribute to all the beautiful art Sutler had banned."

I stayed there, very unwillingly for a while, until, by methods I would never be strong enough to replicate, he opened my eyes and banished my fear. You see, V was a man, underneath that mask and through the beautiful idea of his. And as a living, feeling man, he wanted to share his way of life, his lack of fear with me. His methods were, harsh, and again I was mad at him, furious, all I knew was hatred, so I left. It hurts me to realize that I wasted time we could have had sulking in London, but that I did."

"I promised though, that I would return before the fifth, and that is the day I returned on. As a man who knew his death was fast approaching," Her eyes were steadily getting redder, but she did not cry, Damien noticed, as he typed away, so adept at the art that he didn't need to look at his fingers anymore. "He gave me everything, the place I have called home for the past two years, his books, his piano, his jukebox. But most important to you, to history, to the world, he gave me the train."

The class simultaneously inhaled, and Evey smiled. In the numerous UN meetings and few interviews she had given she never answered questions about the train.

Her tone took a summating turn, and she wiped her eyes on a tissue before she continued. "Remember, V was a man. A generous one, he gave each of you a gift, he opened your eyes, changed your perspective. It heartens me to see you all used that gift, just as I used the gift he gave me. Please, make a change in this word, in his world. And do not hesitate to love him, for he is more that an idea."

Quietly, as Evey walked to to corner where the masked man stood, she whispered, just loud enough for a man going by the name Victor to hear, she whispered, "You can not miss or love or kiss an idea."

All around Damien the room erupted in applause, and whoops and just happy sounds, he followed suit until his throat went sore, and the rest of the hullaballoo died down.

Evey

Evey stood in the corner and blushed. She hated it when people clapped for her. Not wanting to look at her audience, in a vey politically correct manner, Evey watched th V imposter walk up to the podium. There was something familiar about the way he walked…almost as if he were dancing. She'd only seen one other person who walked like that.

She tensed in the corner and mentally chastised herself. V. Is. Gone. It was probably just the costume, this man had a phenomenal costume. Evey never really got used to seeing all of those V's walking around, and it still bothered her to this day that people pranced around on the streets dressed as him. Did they have no respect? Calming herself down, the short haired woman took a deep breath. The ar, it smelled like him, like the Gallery and gunpowder. All it took was one word from the masked mans mouth before she jumped at him.

"Well, I-" He began before Evey screamed, "What the bloody Hell, V!" Slowly he turned to her, and cocked his head in that inquisitively happy way. From the other corner of the room the Dean rushed between the pair.

"Miss Hammond, you must be mistaken. This is not Codename V, he is Dr. Vic-" The elder man was cut of by the 'Dr.'

"Evey, I assure you, I meant to speak to you sooner, I just wanted to make sure everything was running smoothly." His voice was clam and liquidly, just as she remembered.

"I thought you were DEAD!" She yelled, closing the distance between her and the Dr. "I mourned you for two years while you what V? While you watched? Stayed at a nice hotel and took notes on what your little protégé was up to?!?" She screamed up at him, her face directly upturned but still six inches below his.

"I am so sorry-" He began taking a step back. Evey was acutely aware that everyone in the room but V thought she was psycho. And she was so angry she couldn't muster the feelings to care.

"Damn right you are!" She screeched, as she grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him out of the room. "Were going back to the Gallery and you're going to tell me _just_ how sorry you are, V!"

Student

Poor Evey, the mans superb disguise and eerily similar mannerisms must have set her off and believe that Dr. Victor was in fact, Codename V.

At least that's what Damien, and most of the graduating class that year believed, until two moths later when the ex-terrorist V made a televised comeback speech, much at his girlfriend and roommates urging.


End file.
